“He cooks, too?” I ask, laughing when I find him standing in front of the stove with his back to me. My laughter grows when he spins to face me, wearing a dark blue and green apron—the colors of Washington’s football team.
“We’ve gotta eat.”
“Mmm, what’s on the menu?” I pull out one of the black and white stools and take a seat at the granite bar, watching him. He’s not wearing a shirt underneath his apron, and he only has on a pair of boxer briefs. I admire his overall physique when he turns back to the stove to turn it off.
“Avocado toast.”
“Like a proper millennial.”
He chuckles.
“Not just any avocado toast, though.” He proudly sets a plate down in front of me, and my stomach instantly growls.
“I’m not usually one for breakfast, but last night worked up an appetite.”
“And this morning’s workout,” he reminds me, leaning over the bar to capture my lips with his own.
“And this morning,” I repeat against his lips.
He steps back, and I force myself to lower my gaze to the plate in front of me. Neil is right. This isn’t just a slice of toast with some avocado spread on top. He toasted some ciabatta bread—my favorite type—topped it with butter, sliced avocado, tomato, an egg, and that everything but the bagel seasoning that everyone loves.
“Is this balsamic on top?” I question, looking down at the dark brown liquid on top of both slices.
“Yup,” he responds as he takes a seat next to me with his plate. “Let me know if the eggs are too runny for you.”
I shake my head. “No such thing. The runnier, the better.” I take my first bite and clutch my fist to my mouth, holding in the squeal that wants to escape.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says, laughing at my facial expression.
“You better. This is delicious.” I dive in for my second bite, this time realizing he’s melted cheese over the tomato and between the egg. All the ingredients combine to create a cornucopia of flavors in my mouth.
“I forgot to get the coffee started before I made the toast. I can make some if you’d like.”
I shake my head. “Who needs coffee? Between that wake up call this morning and this toast, I’m up.”
He tosses his head back and laughs, and my nipples pebble. I place my half-eaten toast on the plate and rise from the stool, reaching over to kiss the side of his cheek. However, when I move to retake my seat, I’m prevented by Neil’s arm around my waist. Wordlessly, he pulls my plate closer, making it evident that he and I are now sharing this one stool.
I don’t have a problem with that.
“You know, when I open my bakery, maybe we’ll offer breakfast items as well. Only avocado toast, though. And only you can make it, which means you’ll have to come and work for me.”
He chuckles as his hand moves down, cupping my butt and squeezing. “Sorry, babe, I happen to like my day job. Now, if you said this toast would keep you in my bed every morning, I’d reconsider your offer.”
There’s an uptick in my heartbeat even as I laugh at his joke. However, there is an air of seriousness that belies his tone. Between that and the earnest look in his eyes, there’s a piece of me that wonders if he’s truly joking.
I don’t let myself go too far down that road. I’ve learned it’s best to stay in the moment and not let my hopes of the future turn into unmet expectations.
Turning toward the one window in the kitchen, I watch the fat snowflakes continue to fall. “It’s still snowing. Let’s go make snow angels,” I say, standing abruptly and widening my gaze as I look at Neil.
I half expect him to brush me off and tell me to get serious, but I should’ve known better. Instead of calling me ridiculous, he stands, taking my plate and his over to the sink. Then he turns to me and says, “If we’re going to play in the snow, you’re going to need some real clothes.”
“Shoot.” I glance down at the T-shirt and shorts I wear, forgetting all about the fact that I only wore a dress, heels, and leather jacket the night before. None of which is appropriate for going out in this kind of weather.
“No sweat, I’ve got us covered.”
I don’t know how but Neil managed to have jeans, a shirt, sweater, and a coat complete with gloves, scarf, and hat delivered in under an hour.
“So, this is how the other half lives, huh?” I tease, looking at Neil once dressed in my new clothes.
He lifts an eyebrow. “What other half?”
I shake my head, laughing to myself. “Nothing, nevermind.” I take a step around him, but he stops me with his arm around my waist. His expression turns serious as he stares down at me.
“What’d you mean by that?”
I push out a breath and return his stare, shrugging. “Nothing much, just that it has to take some kind of pull to get clothes delivered just like that.”
“There are all types of delivery services nowadays.”
“I’m familiar. Trust me. I have most of my baking ingredients delivered when I’m too busy in the kitchen to go out to the store. But my groceries aren’t delivered by my building’s concierge service.”
Neil shakes his head. “It’s not that big a deal.”
“I was only kidding.”
He doesn’t say anything as he peers down at me, his arm still wrapped around my waist. Finally, he nods, releasing me, only to retake my hand in his own.
I let out a sigh as we exit his condo.
The rest of the afternoon is spent at a local park, creating snow angels, laughing as we try to build a snowman, and then heading to a coffee shop for some hot chocolate. We never did get to see that light show, but I’d forgotten all about it as I gazed into Neil’s eyes.
Chapter 6
“Mr. McKenna, Larry from Waldrich Healthcare is here to see you,” Gloria announces through the phone.
Two things force me to blow out a long exhale as I pinch the bridge of my nose. One, I’ve told Gloria countless times to refer to me as Neil, but she simply refuses. She worked for my father for years and said it was only appropriate to keep up the same level of formality with me. Second, though I’m well aware of my morning meeting scheduled with Larry and some of his team via video conference, I still haven’t made a decision yet.
“Give me five minutes before you show him to the conference room,” I tell Gloria.
“Not a problem.”
Hanging up the phone, I rise from my desk, cracking my knuckles as I stare out the window. This decision has been weighing on me heavily for weeks now. We’re getting closer to the deadline, as the company wants to get the ball rolling by early next year.
I push out a breath and think back to the previous weekend. Desiree spent the entire weekend at my place again. That’d become a regular occurrence since the first time she slept over. Truthfully, I wouldn’t mind having her spend the entire week at my place, but she insists on spending her weeks at home since her apartment is closer to her day job, and she has all her baking supplies at her disposal.
Things have picked up for Desiree with the amount of cookie and baking orders she’s getting, thanks to the rapidly approaching holidays. There’s one more weekend between now and Thanksgiving, and she’s considering taking that full week off from school to fulfill her website orders. Of course, every chance I get, I’ve been encouraging her to pursue opening her bakery so she can turn in her resignation as soon as possible. She keeps saying she’ll think about it, which makes sense. It’s a huge step to take.
This thought leads me back to my hesitation with the decision I need to make regarding McKenna Rehab facilities. I grab the files off my desk regarding Waldrich Healthcare and then exit my office to head to the conference room.
“Neil, how are you doing?” Larry Waldrich questions, rising to his feet. He’s seated at the far side of the long pine table, granting him a full view of the screen set up for the videoconference to take place.
“I’m well. How are you, Larry?” I ex
tend my hand for him to shake, which he does enthusiastically.
“Doing great. Happy to go into this holiday season with some new projects in the works. Hoping we can add McKenna Rehab to that list.”
Though I manage to hold my neutral expression, inwardly I frown at the way he referred to McKenna as another project to be added to his company’s roster. My rehab facilities are a business, yes. However, I’m cautious about ensuring business dealings don’t get in the way of the work on the ground. The thought of a company like Larry’s seeing this as no more than a means to add more profit to his bottom line doesn’t sit well with me.
“I assume your associates are ready to join us?” I ask, motioning my head toward the flatscreen at the front of the room.
“They should be, yes.”
Seconds later, the screen turns on and fills with three men and one woman, all of whom I’ve met in person at one time or another. From her desk, Gloria has set up the conference call to stream into the conference room.
“Morning, gentlemen, and Linda,” Larry greets.
We make our greetings and get on with the formalities before starting on the real conversation at hand.
“Neil, I hope Larry has given you our apologies for not being able to meet in person. We’re attending our annual conference in upstate New York, and Larry took it upon himself to fly to the West Coast to have this meeting in person. That’s how important this merger is to us,” Grant, Vice President of Operations at Waldrich, says, smiling into the screen.
That time I can’t hold the frown that breaks through. He says all of this as if I should be impressed. I’m not.
“I appreciate all of your time, and as you know, my time is precious as well. Given the nature of the business we do here at McKenna, I’m certain you’re all well aware that this time of year is especially busy.” I pause for a heartbeat, staring at every participant in this meeting, letting my gaze finally come to rest on Larry as he sits across the table from me.
Oddly, I’m not surprised to find a small amount of surprise in his eyes.
“The holiday season can be a rough time of year for anyone, given all the heightened emotion and extra planning that goes into the events surrounding this time of year. Everyone from stay-at-home mothers to busy executives with no families of their own can feel the stress. However, for those who suffer from substance addiction, the added burden of constantly being surrounded by holiday parties with alcohol in abundance, along with other items, can and sometimes does cause a relapse.”
“Yes, yes, we’re well aware of that, Neil,” Sheila, the lone woman in this meeting, steps up to answer. She might be the only woman in this meeting, but she is far from meek and mild, as I’ve come to notice in our few interactions. “In Seattle alone, there’s usually an uptick in drunk driving incidents, suicides, and overdoses in the final two months of the year. Most major cities follow this trend, according to the research I’ve conducted.”
I nod, well aware of the statistics. Hell, I am one of those statistics. “And those are only the numbers that we can get our hands on. There are the attempted failed suicides that don’t get reported or the violent crimes attributed to substance abuse. I say all of this to remind everyone that McKenna is not just about the numbers.” I turn to Larry again. “We’re about the people we serve. We’re not a hospital, but we do save lives here. And this isn’t just business. It’s personal,” I say, looking him in the eye.
This time of year always reminds me of the lowest point in my addiction. I almost didn’t make it out alive.
“We understand that, Neil,” Sheila responds, causing me to turn to her.
I nod at the understanding I see in her eyes.
“With that said, we shouldn’t kid ourselves on the matter, either,” Larry starts, and it takes my all not to give him a thunderous glare that wells up inside of me. I don’t appreciate the dismissive nature of his tone. “McKenna Rehab is a for-profit company, and as such, there needs to be a return on shareholder value.”
“For the past three years, McKenna has returned a two-fold profit to its shareholders,” I state casually.
“And you’ve expanded nationally, which is why now is the prime time to grow McKenna even more. Unfortunately, the opioid crisis isn’t letting up, especially in parts of the country like Appalachia and inner-cities where you have vested interests,” he points out.
I nod, still not feeling onboard in my gut, but I say, “Let’s discuss the numbers.”
We go around for the next two hours, talking numbers and the goals that Waldrich is looking to carry out through my facilities. Most of them line up with the aims I’d already set for McKenna clinics, but I still feel hesitation, and I refuse to rush making any significant decisions.
“I look forward to our next meeting, gentlemen, and Sheila.” I nod at the screen, and they all give their departing greetings moments before the screen goes blank. Larry and I talk a few more minutes and then I show him out.
“Still haven’t made a decision, have you?” Gloria’s voice sounds behind me as I stare out the window of my office.
A small smile appears on my lips as I turn to face her. “What gave it away?”
She rolls her eyes. “You and your father aren’t as different as you like to think.”
“Oh, no?”
She lets out a laugh. “Don’t get all offended, but there’s a thing or two you could learn from him.”
“I’m well past the days of being offended by any comparison. Maybe I’ll give him a call.” I’ve spoken with my father, Neil McKenna Senior, about this merger before, but that was a while ago.
“Good.”
I turn to look at the clock on the wall. “I’ve got a group in ten minutes.”
“The chairs have already been set up for you.”
“Thanks, Gloria.”
Though I’m the CEO of this place, I continue to hold onto my license to work one-on-one with patients or in group settings. Once a week, I make it a point to host a group meeting. It keeps me close to our clients to remain informed of their needs with my own two eyes and ears.
“I bet you’re looking forward to the holiday party this weekend. It’s the first of the season, and it’s at your favorite gallery,” Gloria notes.
I smirk. Yes, the annual holiday party at the Winston Art Gallery is one of my favorites that kicks off the weeks of holiday events. And Gloria is well aware of my love of art, but it’s not those passions that have me most excited for the party. It’s the fact that Desiree will be on my arm.
“Been looking forward to it all week,” I finally say to Gloria before we both exit my office so I can head down to my group meeting. There’s a noticeable lift in my step as I think about Desiree attending the party with me.
Every moment without her has come to feel like I’m holding my breath until I see her again.
Chapter 7
Rushing around my apartment, I press the button to dial Jackie’s number. It’s been weeks since we’ve spoken. I know she’s busy with work and everything, but I want to check in with my friend.
“Hello? Dierdre?” she answers, sounding breathless.
“Yeah, it’s me. What are you doing?” I question as I walk back into the kitchen. I’m also in the middle of baking some more cookie orders.
“N-Nothing. Just, uh, working. You?”
Pulling the phone from my ear, I stare at it to make sure I’ve dialed the right number. Jackie sounds flustered for some reason.
“You’re still at work?”
“Yeah, been working late nights to get this project secured by the end of the year.”
I nod, remembering she told me about the thing with Townsend Industries.
“How’s that going?”
“Interesting,” she answers, but there’s something hidden in her response.
“Jackie, are you sure everything’s all right? How’s your mom doing?”
She sighs. “Honestly, she’s still the same. No better, but at least not worse.
And work has been … interesting. I kind of reconnected with someone from high school.” Her voice lowers to a whisper.
“Who? A guy?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, do tell.”
“I can’t.”
I pause in the middle of my kitchen. “Why not?”
She pushes out a breath. “It’s a long story. We’ll have to talk when there’s more time.”
I frown, but don’t push it. Jackie has often been cagey about certain aspects of her life. She lets you in when she wants to and not a minute before.
“Fine. I wanted to ask you about Neil anyway.”
“What about him?”
“What do you think of him? Is he a good man?” I hate the insecurity in my voice but have to ask. Jackie worked with him for years. She’d know and would be more objective than I am right now.
Losing my sister showed me how flawed my thinking can be when it comes to judging others. So many times, I thought Deirdre kicked her habit only to find out she’d been sneaking around behind my back. Friends and even family told me I was wrong to trust her, but I believed in her anyway.
“Neil McKenna? Yes, one of the best. Why’re you asking this all of a sudden?”
I part my lips to answer, but there’s a loud knock at my door.
My gaze shoots over to the time on the microwave. It’s precisely 5:30 on the dot. I smile.
“He’s a stickler for time,” I mumble as I stride toward the door. I pull it open, and my smile grows to find Neil standing there, taking up the entire span of my doorway. The leather coat he’s wearing hides most of his frame, but those sizzling eyes eat me up with one stare.
Before I can even say hello, his lips barrel down, covering mine, demanding that I take what he’s giving. His skin is cool to the touch, due to the chilly temperatures outside. But in no time flat, we’re both warming up thanks to the scorching kiss we share.
A Holiday Seduction: A Holiday Novella Page 5